


Variations On A Theme

by fragile-teacup (Mrs_Gene_Hunt)



Series: The Spaces Between [2]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, FannibalFest, Hannibal Loves Will, M/M, Stag Awards, Swearing, Will is a Mess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-10
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2019-02-13 00:52:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12972141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mrs_Gene_Hunt/pseuds/fragile-teacup
Summary: Written for the FannibalFest Stag Awards 2017.Winner of the Fan Fiction Pre-TWOTL category.A 1000 word short fic that takes place at the end of Savoureux (Season 1, Episode 13).Huge thanks as always to my beta,PKA!I'mfragile-teacupon Tumblr. Drop by for a visit any time!





	Variations On A Theme

VIDI LUX VESTRA

 _I saw your light._

The radiant fire of righteous fury. Body poised, steel blue eyes staring down the barrel. Such courage. Futile yet admirable.

Led down grim echoing passages, walls windowless, Hannibal luxuriates in anticipation. Irritatingly long since last they were together. And then not alone. Uncle Jack hovering, usual scowl in place. Will unconscious, freed of the cloying smell of sickness, though not from the tedious clucking of medical staff.

They've all deserted him now. Made him well and locked him in a box. 

Hannibal pauses. Closes his eyes and scents the air to find him.

***

VIDI TENEBRAE TUAE

 _I saw your darkness._

A thought lodged in his consciousness like a sob. 

Abandoned in the bowels of the BSHCI, feeding on his own foul thoughts, Will had waited. Ignored Chilton's babbling, closed his eyes against Alana's pain. Just... waited.

To see. To _know._

That the man who had made him protein scramble, early morning coffee, chicken soup, was gone. Smothered by the darkling _thing_ which approaches on the other side of the bars. He can _feel_ it smirking.

It had smirked in Minnesota, coiled around him, whispering temptation in his ear.

Steels himself to face it.

***

VIDI TENEBRAE TUAE

_I saw your darkness._

Difficult not to grimace, passing cell after cell, the stench of mediocrity permeating the air. Banal degenerates. Pretenders. Not one to compare with the seething creature which had first raised curious eyes to his in a blood-spattered kitchen.

A privilege to have nurtured the shy being, to coax and encourage. Still in its infancy, of course. Still requiring... guidance.

This separation stings. More than Hannibal had anticipated. Still, until he can posit a solution, captivity will serve as a useful cocoon.

At the end of the corridor he stops. Turns.

_There you are._

***

VIDI LUX VESTRA

_I saw your light._

Searching eyes linger upon his bowed head like a kiss.

Images – moments – flicker through his mind, playing in jerky stop-starts, fuelling his anger: furtive glances in Jack's office, fragile teacups and rusty laughs, 'Are you sure you can't stay?' and shy smiles, 'We are her fathers now', 'I care about your life'.

_Lies._

A mockery of goodness, of friendship, of something... more. Never named, never acknowledged, but he'd felt it growing between them. 

All over now. The strings have been cut, the plaything abandoned.

_But, monster, I'm not as fragile as you think._

***

VIDEO TE TENEBRIS

_I see your darkness._

What a marvel Will Graham is. Even now. Sitting on the edge of a rustic iron cot with polyester sheets – _and really, Jack, that is awfully rude_ – with head downcast, shoulders slumped, defeat in every line. Clever, clever Will. As if _they_ could ever defeat him. As if _they_ could ever have him. This is merely a detour – regretful but necessary.

Still, it's curious. The sharp tug in Hannibal's chest. The instinct to protect, to comfort. A genuine _need_ felt for no other save one, long ago.

But do wild things require comfort?

***

VIDEO LUX VESTRA

_I see your light._

'Hello, Will.'

Such gentleness would make angels weep. Rich, deep, cultured tones wholly out of place in this echoing chamber of monotone orders and muffled curses.

Rage propels Will to his feet. Steadies himself as he rises; takes a moment before he lifts his eyes to the thing wearing his friend's face. 

It returns his gaze, head tilting as if to say, 'Now, Will, you _know_ I had to do this.'

_Don't look at me as if you care. Don't you fucking dare._

Knows he wants it to and hates himself for that.

***

VIDEO LUX VESTRA

_I see your light._

Will's smouldering anger is barely banked, eyes aflame, body rigid with indignation. Hannibal looks steadily back, riveted. Will has snapped back into fight mode. He fairly bristles with it, despite the toll his illness has taken. How glorious he is. An inferno promising bloody retribution. 

No time to mourn the immolation of their old friendship, when even now something new coalesces. It will rise from the ashes. 

If Will allows it. If he will play.

'Hello, Doctor Lecter.'

Ah, how refreshing to finally be seen by someone so wholly unafraid. 

_That's my boy._

***

VIDEO TE TENEBRIS

_I see your darkness._

Guide, confidante, paddle: gone.

Yet even as he thinks it, doubt creeps in, wisps of thought curling around his senses. Disorienting. 

These eyes which pierce the glooming, eyes dark as molasses, are drenched in familiar tenderness. Understanding. Compassion. And just like that, the _thing_ is Hannibal again. 

Will's throat tightens.

Pulled forward, he experiences a split second of uncertainty before grasping at conviction with a firmer hand. For Hannibal's tenderness is an eclipsing darkness that enfolds and lulls and seduces.

_Does the man hide the monster or does the monster hide the man?_

**

VIDE COR MEUM

 _See my heart._

Emotions flicker in Will's eyes like fireflies. Iridescent. Elusive. Hannibal holds Will's gaze as he parses and dissects them.

Each one he anticipates. Each one he understands. Each one until... Rejection?

_Beloved, did you think that you had lost me? I am still here. I am still yours._

And to show him, Hannibal smiles. Just the faintest trace. But he allows his devotion and pride to shine. Knows that Will won't understand – or even believe. Not yet.

_Beautiful, wrathful Lamb. I will show you everything you can be. And then..._

_I will free you._

***

VIDE COR MEUM

 _See my heart._

Will loathes himself for the way his gaze clings to Hannibal's. Allowing him to analyse. Allowing him _in._

_He has always been your blind spot,_ his inner voice mocks. It sounds like Hannibal. 

And then Hannibal smiles. It is subtle. Fleeting. But it is real. And it is everything. Because in that smile lies the answer. And suddenly, despite everything, Will has to suppress a smile of his own. _I'm not the only one with a blind spot._

_Beautiful, terrible Monster. I will know everything that you are. And then..._

_I will change you._


End file.
